Golden Girl Turned Onyx
by DragonsWillFly
Summary: There comes a time when being the brainy 'know-it-all' that receives no recognition isn't enough. Now that she has felt the pleasure in pain, Hermione wants more. And who better to get it from than the dark witch that introduced her to such deviance? Sequel to one-shot, 'Torture Should Never Feel This Good.'
1. Anger Starts as a Little Thing

_**Author's Note- Hello everyone! I apologise for not updating or really writing sooner, I have been a bit busy with many things in my life. So, it has been a bit harder for me to update regularly. BUT... I have kept my promise to write a sequel for my one-shot, 'Torture Should Never Feel This Good,' and here is the first chapter of it! For those who have been patiently waiting for the newest installment of 'When Life Goes On,' I apologise for its delay. This story, as well as another story, has totally pushed out all ideas for that story (for the moment). But I promise I will finish it soon! Allright, enough of the notes... ON TO CHAPTER ONE!**_

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"_**Anger can start as such a tiny thing, **_

_**when fully grown however, **_

_**it can be the storm that is felt in hell."**_

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No other houses can be seen from any window of Shell Cottage. It sits as a beacon on the cliff overlooking the sea, just on the outskirts of Tinworth, Cornwall. Hermione thinks that maybe, just maybe the constant ebb and flow of the waves that crashed against the cliff will lull her into a more serene state of mind. Every time she closes her eyes however, all she sees is a waterfall of unruly raven-coloured hair combining with pale porcelain skin and sinful ruby red lips. The sight makes her long for the poisonous caresses and the torturous kisses from the dark witch that had seems to enter her veins like a drug. It is like with every breath, the brunette could feel a little death. The hollowness from being too far away from the object she most craves creates a burden almost too hard to carry.

The boys had thought, that first morning after arriving at the cottage during the middle of the night, that it would be best if they waited until Hermione had gotten over the shock of that dreadful night at Malfoy Manor. She had been so reserved since that fateful eve, that neither one of them pressured her to continue until she felt she was absolutely ready. They never knew that during those sweet yet torturous moments with the deranged raven-haired witch, she had sealed their fate. Moving around her as if walking upon eggshells, Ron and Harry would plan what their next move was, in regards to finding the next Horcrux and how to destroy the one they already had in their possession, while Hermione sat up in the room that Fleur and Bill had let her use and plotted her own schemes. Her mind swam with murderous thoughts of both the boys she had known for nearly seven years of her life. The more time the brunette spent alone in that upstairs room the more she realised how much of a hindrance both wizards had been to her life. Neither were that bright, nor were they level-headed. Emotions sparked their every move, while she had always kept the cool composure and found logic her companion. It was that logic... that, what was normally seen as a cold hard exterior, was crumbling into the rage and anger that she felt the moment that Ron had pulled her along with them, as they Apparated out of the Manor. Where they sought safety, she would graciously long for the sweet surrender of pain from her dark angel, Bellatrix Lestrange.

Nearly a week passed before the boys thought it wise enough to reveal the knowledge of their plan. Quietly, Harry and Ron walk into the room so as not to startle the brunette. "Hermione, we have to talk."

"Oh, so you finally decided to allow me in the conversation, Harry? That is really nice of you. I am sure you both had loads to talk about... without me being there." Hermione lashes out, already annoyed by the fact that they finally decided to invade her space and disrupt her own thoughts.

"Now come on, 'Mione. You know we wanted you to have a chance to get better..." Ron says as he sits down beside her and gently puts a hand on her shoulder.

"You make it sound as if I had the bloody dragon-pox! Now are you going to let me in on your plan, or are you going to sit here and console me?" The brunette's eyes flash dangerously towards the red-haired wizard, who slowly takes his hand off her shoulder. She knew he had often thought that their relationship had grown past the friendship stage, she would often cringe at the very notion of such a thing, but never had the heart to tell him. Now though, she wished that it had been him with Bellatrix's dagger in his chest, not the annoying yet loveable house-elf, Dobby.

"We decided..." Harry looks over at Ron then back to Hermione. "We should break into Gringotts."

"Break into the Goblin bank? Harry... I know that you have had some pretty mental ideas before, but... Gringotts? That is suicidal, that's what that is!" The witch stares at the Boy-Who-Lived incredulously as he slowly rubs the back of his neck with his hand.

"I told you she would take it well, mate." Ron says with a timid smile that diminishes as quickly as it appeared when Hermione casts a withering gaze in his direction.

"Unlike you Ronald, there are some of us who quite fancy living. I know I do. We are being hunted by Snatchers, Death-Eaters, and the bloody Ministry... what makes you so sure we could waltz right down Diagon Alley and into Gringotts? What would we say? 'Oh.. excuse me. We are wondering if You-Know-Who is hiding a horcrux in His or any of His loyal subjects' vaults?" The witch asks in a saccharine voice while rolling her eyes. "How many galleons do you want to bet that we won't even make it two metres down the street before every Death-Eater around would be on us? And besides how do you even know that something is there?"

"If there wasn't anything there, why would Bellatrix have asked you about being in her vault if nothing was there? She seemed awfully sure that we had been inside her vault. Maybe something was there along with the sword, and that's why she had asked Griphook about the sword, as well as the safety of her personal vault." Harry states calmly. "There has to be something there that He is hiding, I just know it."

They all fall silent for a few minutes, each one letting the gravity of Harry's statement sink in. The brunette's mind starts to work in double time as she tries to rearrange her plans in accordance to theirs. Hermione had thought of several ways to try and run back to the sweet poison that was Bellatrix Lestrange, each idea more daring than the last but she could never figure out how to execute them. But as the gears turned in her head she realised that, in their stupidity, the two most reckless Gryffindor wizards that she had the misfortune to know actually came up with the plan that she so desired. Almost immediately, Hermione's eyes light up with the solution to all their problems.

"I have it... there is no way we would be able to walk down Diagon Alley as ourselves. As I said before, there are too many people out there searching for us as we speak. But... what if we take Polyjuice Potion? Or better yet, I take the potion, we can change up Ron's appearance with a Glamour Charm, and Harry you still have your invisibility cloak. That way no one will recognise any of us and we can make our way to Gringotts."

"It's a good plan, but... Won't someone recognise me?" Ron asks as he looks back and forth between his two friends, the beginnings of fear etching its way into his voice.

"Ron... you are the only one out of the three of us that no one is looking for properly." Hermione exhales as she feels her frustration for the boy start to work its way back to a heightened level. "Both mine and Harry's wanted pictures are posted everywhere. We are both considered highly dangerous. Your pure-blood status pretty much has you covered even though they consider you a blood-traitor. So a slight modification to your facial hair and maybe a change in your eye colour will keep them from identifying you properly." The brunette nods to herself as she feels her own quick-made intent interlacing perfectly within the boys' scheme.

Jealously interlocking with pride swarms into her heart before she is able to disclose the other part of her plan to the boys: Her sacred treasure that she had unexpectedly received from the beautiful goddess of a woman that she worshiped. Hermione knew if she spoke of it, it would be forever tarnished by their loathing of her dark angel. But, she knew she must speak of it for her to be able to finally be near the Death-Eater again.

"Okay, 'Mione. That explains how Harry and I'm getting in there. But... how are you getting in?" Ron asks, the sound of his voice tearing the witch out of her thoughts.

"You do realise that when I say 'range of a teaspoon,' I am not just talking about your emotions, right?" Hermione sneers tersely. "I have already said I am going to use a Polyjuice Potion!"

"I think Ron is asking, whose hair are you going to use for the final ingredient? You can't exactly use either Bill or Fleur's since they both work there and the goblins have probably set up some kind of way to check their employees." Harry says softly, trying to calm the witch sitting beside him.

The witch calms down, if only slightly, before continuing with the telling of her plan. "I am going to use a hair from Bellatrix Lestrange..." She pauses to see the reaction of the two boys. To say they were slightly shocked would have been like saying that anyone could see a thestral. Rolling her eyes, she decides to elaborate further about her plan. "Look you two... it is the only way to be able to get in without anyone suspecting anything. Harry, you already stole her wand back at Malfoy Manor. And her hair is the only one that was on my clothes from any of them. It will be the easiest way to enter Gringotts undetected. No one would ever question why she would seek entrance into her own vault. It is the perfect plan." The brunette smiles to herself the more she thinks about it.

The Boy-Who-Lived stares at his female friend as he sees a slight haze of happiness fall over her. He feels a rush of relief at the fact that Hermione, even though still moody, is becoming more like her old self; mistaking her fantasising over becoming the dark witch, as pride for a well thought out plan. Smiling as well, Harry looks to both his friends, "Well, I suggest we all turn in for the night. Tomorrow will be a long day.**_"_**


	2. The Calm Before the Storm

**_Author's Note: First and foremost, I would like to thank everyone for their kind reviews! I have been working on this story for quite some time. It has been on my mind since I first posted the 'Torture Should Never Feel This Good.'I have quite a bit of this already fleshed out in outline form, so hopefully this one will be updated a bit more often than some of my other stories. I hope you all enjoy this chapter!_**

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"_**One is certain of nothing but the truth of one's own emotions"**_

_**-E.M. Forster**_

The next morning, Hermione greets the day with a smile on her face. It is the first time she has actually smiled since the trio began their journey months ago. She takes a few moments to stretch, before she removes herself from the nice warm bed.

There is an extra bounce in her step as she takes her beaded bag off of the dresser and rifles through its contents. Lifting a bottle out of the gaping mouth of the bag, Hermione peers at the liquid floating about in the glass jar. Its muddy brown texture causes the brunette to shudder with anticipation as she walks back to the night stand near the bed, where her most prized possession was tucked away in a small phial of its own. Mixing the two components together, Hermione waits patiently as the Polyjuice Potion changes from brown to a reddish purple colour.

Taking a deep breath, she raises the bottle up to her lips and downs the contents therein with a slight grimace. The taste of Polyjuice Potion has never been one of her favourite things to experience, but the young witch knows this is something that she has to do. The brunette closes her eyes as she feels the transformation start to happen. She feels her body shift and change, as the potion courses through her body. Hermione feels the transition, and even though it is a very uncomfortable feeling, she knows that if given the chance, she would drink the potion all over again.

Finally, the convulsions stop, allowing the brunette to make the few steps towards the large mirror in the corner of the room. Looking at herself within the mirror, Hermione smiles. The image smiling back is not her own. She knew she should have waited until a few minutes before they decided to Apparate to Diagon Alley, but she needed this time to herself. And besides the batch of Polyjuice Potion she had made beforehand was strong enough to last five hours.

Staring longingly into the chocolate orbs of the reflection in front of her, Hermione feels the stab of want for the raven-haired witch rush forth through her veins and crash upon the rocks of the knowledge that the woman she longed to touch was not there. It saddened her to know that she was so close yet so far from the woman she craved. Using her full powers of self-control, Hermione pulls herself away from the mirror and walks out towards where the two wizards said they would meet her.

As she crosses the sandy dunes, the boys look on in slight hesitation. They both know that it isn't the deranged Death-Eater that they barely escaped from a week prior, but the way Hermione had strolled toward them caused the fear to trickle back into their hearts. Her amble was similar to that of the dark witch's. Haughty. Arrogant. The very essence of the Black family reincarnated into their normally mousy, bookworm friend.

"What are you staring at?" Hermione snaps as she stood in front of the two wizards. Her voice echoing the seemingly childish but overly daunting voice of Bellatrix Lestrange. She smirks when she sees the two wizards take a step back. "Allright... you lot need to pull yourselves together. I can't have you jumping every time you see me while we are travelling through Diagon Alley!"

"But, 'Mione... You look just like her!" Ron points out, his voice shaking slightly with the fear he had felt when he first laid eyes on her leaving out of Shell Cottage.

"Seriously... Depth of a teaspoon! That is the bloody point _Ronald_! If we are to infiltrate her vault, I have to act just as she does and look like her as well. Otherwise this little plan will not work!" She rolls her eyes as she notices that the red-haired wizard doesn't relax. So she says the one thing that she knows will calm both wizards down, even though she also knows it is the biggest lie she has ever told. "Do you honestly think I enjoy parading around as her? I have to endure what she did to me night after night, while all you have to do is look at me polyjuiced as her! Honestly... both of you knew what we had to do to break into Gringott's and the longer you stand here, mouth agape, the less time we have until this bloody potion wears off! Now, come closer so I can use the glamour on you, Ron."

The red-haired wizard trudges slowly over to Hermione, with a sigh and says. "You're right... let's just get this over with. It's a bit maddening to see you standing there like that, though."

Hermione smirks at how hesitant Ron still is, waving her wand she carefully executes the glamour charm to mask his appearance from anyone else that would see him in Diagon Alley. She may not care for the two boys, as if she would care for two wizards who took her away from her only chance at ultimate bliss, but she knew if they were found out before her plan to have the boys recaptured was in full swing, she knew she was as good as captured as well. Even though she was bringing the two boys into custody, didn't give her a full reprieve. Being a Mudblood, as well as one of the people on the top of the Undesirables List, would grant her a one stop ticket straight to Azkaban if she bungled this one up.

"There it's done. What do you think Harry?" The brunette asks, though she could care less what the-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Royally-Fuck-Up-Her-Life thought.

"He just looks like an older version of himself." Harry says with a shrug, that makes Hermione fight back the bile that suddenly builds in the back of her throat.

"Do you not pay attention to _The Daily Prophet_? He looks exactly like Dragomir Despard." The brunette says with a sigh.

"Who in bloody hell is that?!" Ron interjects as he touches his chin to feel the beard that Hermione had transfigured onto his face.

Hermione rolls her eyes, "I swear... neither one of you pay any attention, do you? Dragomir Despard is a pure-blood wizard from Transylvania whose family is an avid supporter of You-Know-Who! It was a very small piece in last week's _Prophet_. He is expected to arrive in London within two weeks. But no one would question him for being here earlier, as well as in the company of Bellatrix Lestrange. It is a perfect plan!"

"If you say so Hermione, but wouldn't other Death-Eaters know he would have come earlier? And wouldn't they know that he was in the company of Bellatrix Lestrange if he was in the country?" Ron asks as he stops touching the improvements on his face.

"And how many Death-Eaters do you honestly believe are privy to the goings on of the Inner Circle? You two seriously think that the Dark Lord would tell every single one of His followers what goes on?! In that sense they are no different than the Order... remember how they would keep us out of the loop before any of us came of age?! The Snatchers may be dumb, but the Inner Circle is not. He would make sure that He kept all of the secrets that are a need-to-know on a need-to-know basis."

"You just called Him the Dark Lord, Hermione," Harry states heatedly as he stares at the witch.

Rolling her eyes for the millionth time since meeting the two wizards, the brunette draws in a deep breath before answering. "Harry," She stares at the boy pointedly before continuing, "You do realise that in order for us to be able to walk properly up and down Diagon Alley, especially with me pretending to be Bellatrix, we will need to act just like the people we are portraying." She grabs both the wizards' hands before they protested further. "Now come on before this polyjuice potion wears off."


	3. The Greatest Performance of All

_**Author's Note: First, I would like to thank my good friend, Freerangeegghead. You have really helped me out a lot with this story, even though you are doing this all UNOFFICIALLY!**_** ;)****_ I really appreciate everything you do! Second, I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed, followed, or favourited this story! It really brings joy to this writer!_**

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_**Chapter Three**_

_**The Greatest Performance of All**_

"_**Can you imagine what I would do if I could do all I can?"**_

_**-Sun Tzu**_

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The trio Apparate into an abandoned alleyway between Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley. The darkened path is perfect enough to keep others from seeing the slight shift in the invisibility cloak that covers Harry and Griphook.

"What are we..." Ron starts before he was cut off by Hermione's hand clamping firmly over his mouth.

"SHUSH!" She hisses in his ear and only removes her hand from his mouth when she feels for certain that Ron is going to remain quiet. "You need to remain quiet... as I told you before, Despard is from Transylvania. He _will not _have an English accent! So if you do not want to get caught, you will need to be quiet!" _'At least until I can get you inside Gringott's.' _Hermione thinks to herself as she moves out from the shadows of the little dingy alleyway into the pale sunlight of Diagon Alley.

Suddenly, rough hands spin the brunette around causing her to momentarily lose her balance. Hermione stares at the wizard in front of her, her distaste clearly written on her face. The man was dirty, ragged, and had a bloodied bandage covering his eye.

He grabs onto her cloak tighter and bellows, "My children!" He stares at Hermione polyjuiced as Bellatrix and snarls, "Where are my children? What has He done with them? You know, you know!"

"I suggest you take your foul hands off of me!" Hermione warns as she looks upon the man with disdain.

"You bitch! You know what He has done with my children!" The injured wizard screams as he lets go of her cloak and reaches for her throat.

He does not see Hermione reach for her wand until it was too late. The _Cruciatus _Curse courses through his body before Ron, disguised as Despard, or Harry could register what was going on.

"There is nothing you can do, Harry." Griphook whispers harshly into The-Boy-Who-Lived's ear. "You move out from under this cloak and we are all done for! Plus, if anyone is watching, it would make her ruse more believable."

Harry watches lamentably on as Hermione continues to curse the unfortunate man as Ron moves forward and grabs her arm.

"That's enough," Ron whispers, causing the brunette to stop the curse. "He hasn't done anything to you! He just wants to know where his kids are... if my family weren't careful, that could be mum or dad."

Hermione snatches her arm out from Ron's grip and stares at him, "He shouldn't have touched me!"

"You used an Unforgivable on him!" The ginger-haired wizard hisses through his teeth, his voice becoming strained from trying to whisper, instead of shouting out his rage.

"I warned him, didn't I?" The brunette states coolly, her voice still causing chills to run up both the wizards' spines. "Now, come. We need not tarry longer here."

Turning to face the direction of the goblin-ran Wizarding bank, Hermione starts to walk up the street.

"Why, Madam Lestrange!" A male voice calls out from behind the group.

"And what do you want?" Hermione says her voice full of contempt. She knew she had heard his voice before, but could not place it at this time. Her mind is running rampant with thoughts of being found out before her idea has come to fruition, the entire moment rests on her ability to remain calm and for Ron and Harry to pretend to be invisible.

"It's Travers." Griphook whispers from underneath the Invisibility cloak. The brunette could hear the worry slipping into the goblin's normally condescending high-pitched voice.

Hermione remembers the wizard now. He was one of the Death-Eaters who tried to capture the trio at Xenophilius Lovegood's rook shaped house, when they were on the quest to gain more understanding on the Deathly Hallows.

"I merely sought to greet you," Travers says coolly, clearly offended by Hermione's harsh words. "But if my presence is not welcome..."

"No,no, not at all, Travers. How are you?" The witch asks, trying to cover up the mistake she made by jumping to the conclusion that he was nothing more than a passerby who saw her performance.

"Well, I confess I am surprised to see you out and about, Bellatrix."

"Really? Why?" Hermione inquires.

"Well," Travers coughs, "I heard that the inhabitants of Malfoy Manor were confined to the house, after the... ah... escape."

Hermione feels a slight weight settle in the pit of her stomach as hesitation creeps into her soul. _'What if me being out in the open, polyjuiced as Bella, when she is supposed to be confined to the Manor will raise suspicion?'_

"The Dark-Lord forgives those who have served Him most faithfully in the past," The witch states, her words drip with content at the utter notion that the man before her thought himself better than her, and she hopes that it would also mask the hesitation she feels. "Perhaps your credit is not as good with Him as mine is Travers."

The wizard looks as if Hermione's words offended him, but the suspicion left his eyes as he looks upon the man that she had just cursed. "How did it offend you?"

"It does not matter, it will not do so again." Hermione says coolly, as she looks at the man, who tried to choke her, laying crumpled on the floor in his own filth.

"Some of the wandless can be troublesome," Travers replies. He begins to go on about an instance that happened within the Ministry, about a Muggle-born witch and her wand. The brunette is only half listening to the wizard, her mind is concentrating more on how to get rid of him before he realises that she is not the person he thinks she is.

When she hears Travers's speech winding down to a close, Hermione gives a curt nod, "Well Travers, it was _nice_ to see you again, but I really must be going."

The wizard looks taken aback again at the sarcasm that had dripped off of her every word, but would never do anything in retaliation. "I see... well, it is good to see you are out and about again. A good day to you, Madam Lestrange."

Hermione smirks to herself as she sees the wizard hurry away and on to whatever business he was occupied with before. Stepping out onto Diagon Alley, the brunette adjusts her robes and walks, with a purpose, toward Gringott's, followed closely by Ron and an invisible Harry.

She never looks back to see if they are following her, but the sound of boots snapping on gravel assures her that they are following closely behind. The witch smirks to herself as large edifice draws nearer. She knows the time is near. The time when all her dreams will become reality.


	4. The-Boy-Who-Was-Tricked!

_**First and foremost, I want to apologise for the delay. Work has been hectic lately and I had barely any spare time to work on this story, or any of my stories for that matter. Secondly, I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed, followed, and/or favourited this story! Without you, this would merely be a thought of 'what if' in my head. And finally, I would like to thank Freerangeegghead, who has helped me (unofficially) with this chapter! Your witty banter and helpful comments help me more than you know! :)**_

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"_**An insincere and evil friend is more to be feared than a wild beast; **_

_**a wild beast may wound your body,**_

_**but an evil friend will wound your mind."**_

_**-Buddha**_

* * *

Brilliant white marble shines brightly in the midday sun, as the three finally approach Gringott's. Hermione smiles inwardly as hope fills her very being. _'It is almost over, and I will finally be rid of these two,' _she thinks to herself as she pushes against the heavy wooden door of the Goblin bank.

Upon entering the bank, Hermione takes a quick, but analysing, glance throughout the main hall. Goblins. Everywhere she looked, goblins. Sure, she saw a few security wizards standing around trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, but for the most part, all she saw were the goblins who worked there. Most paid no heed to the door opening, nor to the arrival of who they would have thought was the Dark-Lord's second-in-command. They were too busy looking over ledgers or counting out galleons. Even as her high-heeled boots clicked upon the marble tile, none of them even cast a glance towards the arrival of a witch and a wizard who were clients of their establishment. All were busy, save for one.

Sitting at the main desk, at the end of the large hall, sat the head of the goblins of Gringott's, Bogrod, staring intently at Hermione and Ron.

"I wish to enter my vault, goblin," Hermione says, using her most haughty, arrogant voice ever. A tiny shiver of excitement creeps up her spine as she thinks of how proud Bellatrix would be if she could hear how the brunette was speaking to the goblin.

"Ah. Madam Lestrange! How good to see you. May I see some identification?" The old goblin asks as he holds out his hand to take 'her' wand.

Holding her head a little higher, the young witch quirks an eyebrow, "I think you must not have heard me, goblin. I wish to enter _my _vault!"

"But it is only formality, Madam Lestrange. As you already may know, there has been a new decree passed by Minister Thicknesse. As you have noticed, there are a bit more guards than normal around our perimeter. The Minister feels security should be tightened in every aspect of the Wizarding World, and that includes here. So I am sorry, but I will need identification."

Hermione feels her stomach clench at the old goblin's words. It did not change her plans, but it would make things somewhat harder. The goblins must have known that Bellatrix's wand had been taken from her during their escape from Malfoy Manor and were on the look-out for someone carrying her wand. She grips Bellatrix's wand tighter when she sees several of the goblins look up from their menial tasks of counting galleons and adding additional quill marks to their already filled ledgers and stare in her direction. Their eyes attempt to bore holes into her skin, trying to determine if she is, in fact, who she says she is.

Out of the corner of her eye, the brunette notices a flash of movement head towards Bogrod. To the untrained eye, the sudden movement would have never been noticed, but since she knew of Harry and his Invisibility Cloak, Hermione had an inkling of what was about to happen. "Wait... do you smell something?" Hermione asks as she moves her head back and forth as if she were a hound that had caught scent of their quarry.

Several of the goblins look at each other, wondering silently if the head goblin was wrong to think that this was not the deranged Death-Eater they all knew. One of the younger goblins, who had never met Bellatrix before, carefully climbs off of his stool and quickly walks over to the nearest guard. His gait assures on-lookers that he is very afraid of what the witch may do to him and his kind if she continues in this down-ward spiral of what he thinks is complete madness.

"I smell..." She stares at Ron, still disguised as Despard. "A blood-traitor!"

Wordlessly, she casts _Finite Incantatum _and an _Incarcerous spell _towards the red-haired wizard. Instantly Ron is exposed before the guards are able to approach the scene caused by Hermione, polyjuiced as Bellatrix.

"If the Weasel is here..." The brunette pauses, a maniacal sneer forms across her face, as a collective gasp is heard from the goblins who watch the scene unfold before them, "Then Potter should be here as well!" She knew her words and actions were getting to Harry, but he remained quiet and still, trying desperately to keep his temper at bay.

Murmurings of The Chosen One's name, erupt from the goblins, their tasks long forgotten as they watch to see if Harry is actually within Gringott's.

Hermione smirks when a thought passes through her mind. She walks closer to the place where she had seen a glimpse of The-Boy-Who-Lived's shoes earlier, the demonic smile never leaving her lips. "You know we will find you, boy! And when we do, you will end up just like your parents and my dear sweet cousin! There is nowhere to hide... especially if you are trying to hide from the Dark-Lord!"

Nothing. Not a sound or a spell cast towards the witch as she taunts her friend turned bane of her existence. With her patience wearing thin, Hermione huffs then laughs the childish laugh that was her one desire's trademark. "I know how to make you come out from your hiding spot! _Crucio!" s_he screams out, her wand pointed at Ron's helpless form on the ground. Suddenly, his body starts to writhe in agony under the curse.

"Enough, Hermione!" Harry yells, casting off the Cloak of Invisibility, "What do you think you are getting at?"

"What do you think you are getting at?" Hermione mimics back as she casts a hex towards him. She knew her portrayal of Bellatrix needed to be spot on, otherwise, the people watching the display would become wary.

The brunette cackles madly as she sends another curse flying towards The-Boy-Who-Lived. He barely casts a protection spell in time.

"Ickle baby Potter. Do you even know what is going on around you? You think that everything revolves around you. That Dumbledore knew all of the answers. You are wrong! Everything you know is one giant lie!" Hermione snarls as she quickly fires off more curses, keeping the wizard completely on the defensive as her mind counts down the time before 'reinforcements' arrive. "You feel as though that even if you have been forced into this mad scheme, that your friends should follow you full-heartedly into the flames as well. I bet, you have never, during this entire time, even thought to think what your friends want. You just assume that whatever you say goes. That they will be fine with whatever half-assed scheme you come up with. What makes you think you know it all? That you are to be the beacon that everyone is supposed to follow blindly? Oh... that's right, you are 'The Chosen One'." The witch smirks when she sees the anger start to slip from Harry's eyes, only to be replaced with momentary despair.

"Why are you doing this to him, Hermione?" Ron screams out, suddenly finding his voice after being quiet for so long. The pain from the Cruiciatus Curse finally wearing off.

"The Hermione that you all knew, or thought you knew, is gone. She was never there. I suggest you forget about her." She smiles as she hears the sound of several people Apparating into the antechamber.

Chaos ensues, as the goblins, who were sitting, silently stunned at the scene that had developed between the witch and wizard, were presently running about, crashing into the tables along the way as shouts and hexes fill the air as the Death-Eaters who Apparated in seconds before see Harry and Ron. Hermione grabs for Harry as he tries in vain to run behind the large front desk.

"Oh no you don't! You are coming with me!" the brunette hisses as she tightens her grip on the wizard's jacket.

The-Boy-Who-Lived wriggles free from the article of clothing and races down the corridor, deeper into the centre of the bank, with the newly arrived Death-Eaters hot on his trail.

The witch smirks as she watches Potter run blindly down the hall. "There is no escape... the Dark-Lord will have his head on a platter before nightfall," she says carelessly to no one in particular.

The red-haired wizard looks up at her, his face marred with his utter horror and disgust, "How could you? Harry is your friend! You traitor!"

Hermione just smirks at Ron's helpless form and grabs him by the collar of the robes he is wearing, "A friend? You really are a dumb git, aren't you?"

"What are you going to do to him? To me?"

"I will do nothing to him... he is for the Dark-Lord. You, however, your fate shall be worse than his," the brunette says darkly as she calls up an image in her head that she has been longing to see since she first left it a few weeks ago.


	5. Back At Malfoy Manor

_**A/N: Sorry for the long delay, work and a few other things have held me up from writing this chapter, but hopefully things will be looking up soon! I wanted this chapter to be just perfect, especially for how I want this story to go. So without further ado, here is chapter 5!**_

* * *

"_**... And it's been the ruin of many a young boy. **_

_**And god, I know, I'm one."**_

_**-'The House of the Rising Sun'**_

_**Folk Ballad**_

* * *

A soft pop is heard in the quiet stillness of the overcast afternoon sky, as Hermione apparates in front of the ominous wrought iron gate in front of Malfoy Manor. The bright sunlight that was seen in Diagon Alley, has been replaced with a dark blusterous sky, a few rain drops patter down into the witch's hair. She loosens her grip on Ron's collar and looks longingly at the mansion in front of her.

It looks just as she remembered it. Beyond the massive gate, lined with massive impenetrable hedges along a long gravel path, sits the darkened edifice that is Malfoy Manor. The only sign of life within the minacious mansion is a flickering light in the top furthermost corner of the second floor. As she stares up at the light, the brunette feels the Polyjuice potion wear off. Hermione knew that it was only a matter of time, and was grateful that the potion had lasted as long as it did.

Magically, the gate swings open silently allowing the brunette passage. Casting a silent _Levicorpus, _Hermione walks through, her eyes glancing back and forth searchingly. Once several metres inside the premises, the gate closes and the light extinguishes from the window on the second floor. The wind blows, causing the leaves to rustle across the graveled path, crunching underneath her boots. These are the only sounds that invade her ears as she walks along the trail, even Ron has given up trying to speak through the silencing spell she had used on him before leaving Gringott's. It was one thing to hear his whining when she had to, but now that she had defected, though the Order has yet to find out unless Harry had escaped, there was no way in hell she would want to ever hear his petulance again.

The brunette has a sneaking suspicion that someone is watching them, as they make their way closer to the Manor. It is a niggling feeling in the back of her mind, but she knows not to dismiss it. If anything, she knows that it is best to show that she is unfazed by the situation at all, so she chooses to ignore it. Whoever was watching her knew who she was and was not attacking her, that was a very good sign.

"So, you came back. I was hoping you would," a voice says from behind her, causing her body to shudder. She knew the voice and loved to hear its venomous charm. It had been weeks since she had heard its melody outside of her own mind and she loved every minute of it.

Losing focus on her spell, Ron falls unceremoniously to the ground with a thud. His pained expression shows his torment as the rocks dig into his already bruised back.

"Black suits you," Bellatrix states with a smile, hoping that the brunette would understand the double, possibly triple, meaning of her words. "The Manor is all a buzz with what happened at Gringott's. I regret to inform you that the boy escaped, but you have gained the attention of the Dark Lord with your plan. He wishes to see you actually," Bellatrix glances behind Hermione and smiles darkly, "I think He will enjoy the gift you brought."

Cackling as the wind steadily increases in ferocity, the raven-haired witch lifts her face towards the sky allowing the pouring rain to fall onto her face. Hermione stares at the woman who had invaded her every dream as well as her every waking thoughts. _'She is absolutely beautiful,'_ the brunette thinks to herself as she stares longingly at the older woman. The younger witch knows that she took a risk coming back to the place of her torture. The risk wasn't borne of fear from the dark witch beside her, it was the terror she felt for the witch's master. A man who would kill her before looking at her just because of her blood status. If the dark angel beside her said the Dark-Lord's interest has been piqued because of her actions, then she knows that things have changed within the Death-Eaters' ideals.

"The Dark Lord wishes to see me?" Hermione asks, her voice reveals the brunette's excitement and surprise.

"Yes, but of course he does," Bellatrix states as she waves her wand and the red-haired wizard's body rises off the ground, "Yaxley's Patronus arrived shortly before you walked through the gate. He said that there was someone Polyjuiced as me apparating out with a Weasel in tow and I told our Lord that it could only be one person..." the raven-haired witch smiles, creating a slight pause for effect, "You."

The two witches walk silently through the door and into the vestibule before Hermione's curiosity get the better of her, "How did you know it was me? I never told anyone my plan, that is why I was able to execute it as well as I did. Granted, I wasn't able to bring both wizards to the Dark Lord, but I was able to bring at least one of them in. And..."

"Hermione," the older woman starts, "I already knew you would have devised a plan to return to the Manor, I just did not know what exactly you were going to do. I had told Our Lord this much the day you all escaped. Well, I told Him after He calmed down. I knew you could not stay away for too long."

Bellatrix smiles again, this time Hermione notices the predatory way in which the older witch's eyes roam across her body, as if she was being undressed right there in the main entry-way.

Feeling the blush creep upon her cheeks, the brunette shakes her head slightly. The movement allows her to compose herself before she asks, "How did you know that I would come back?"

"I know what you felt the last time you were here. You forget how you turned so easily on those gits when you were writhing under me. I bet ginger here could not tell that your moans were of pleasure, not of pain," the older witch smirks as she sees the wizard in question try to struggle against his bindings as he hears Bellatrix's confession.

"Now, now, Bellatrix. It is not proper etiquette to cause this much discomfort to our honoured guest!" Voldemort says as he glides down the stairs in to the foyer, "Greetings Miss Granger, I am sure that our Bella has told you that I wish to see you. Your cunning display at Gringott's has preceded you," the dark wizard snaps his fingers and two hooded Death-Eaters appear out from the dark corners of the room and roughly grab Ron by his arms, "Come. We shall discuss everything in the study."

In all of her years within the wizarding world, Hermione never thought she would be walking alongside the most notorious of all wizards, but then again, she never thought she would have pined for His lieutenant either. It isn't because she abhorred the dark side of the wizarding world, it is because since she was a muggle-born, she never thought she would quite fit in anywhere. Even the Order made it clear to her that she was nothing more than an insufferable know-it-all who was unfortunately friends with Harry Potter.

She always hated that feeling, the feeling of never belonging anywhere. The brunette felt it in the Muggle world as well. Her eagerness to learn had always marked her as a target for bullying. Taunts and jeers would always follow her around the school-yard and she would race home to crawl under the covers of her bed, tears streaming down her face. Her parents had often contemplated over whether or not to home-school her or send her off to boarding school, but never received a chance. Fate had created another path for the young girl in the form of an invitation of the most prestigious school for witchcraft in the world. Her parents were relieved and so was Hermione, until she found out that it was just like the Muggle world... torments and all.

"Please Miss Granger, have a seat," The Dark-Lord says knocking Hermione out of her musings.

She promptly takes a seat in the closest highback chair that she sees and looks about the room. The room wasn't as she expected. Sure, Hermione knew that the room would have the rich, dark room just like the room she had been in a few weeks prior, but she never realised that the Malfoys would have such a large collection of books.

"It seems as though our young guest enjoys your little library, Bellatrix." Voldemort says as he sits down behind a large dark mahogany desk, "I am sure that Bellatrix would enjoy showing you her collection, but of course, business first."

The Dark-Lord stares intently at the brunette witch sitting across the desk from him, "Miss Granger, I shall be quite frank with you. Your skill as a witch has intrigued me since I first heard of all of your deeds within Hogwarts. You mastered several N.E.W.T level potions within a very short period of time and I also hear you are quite the duelist. But that is not why we are here today, we are here because of the rather surprising turn of events that have recently occurred.

"These events, though quite shocking, were very fortuitous advantages for me. Once I heard of how you tried to capture Potter for us, I had to wonder..." The Dark-Lord pauses slightly to cast a knowing glance towards Hermione, "I had to wonder what exactly caused you to betray him and the ginger that is now within our custody. One hears rumours here and there, and I have never been the sort to stand by what rubbish people want to consider as truths, so that is why I ask you for the truth. Why did you aid us?"

"Well My Lord," Hermione starts, "there are several reasons for my defection from the quote, unquote, light side. The main reason is because they do not understand talent or intelligence, these are two attributes that I know you hold in high regards, My Lord. Time and time again, I have been constantly pushed to the side because they considered my intelligence a hindrance instead of a tool to be used. They would rather allow two dim-witted wizards run about without a clue than someone to calculate every angle before proceeding. It is something that I have abhorred the most, yet could do nothing about without retaliation from the Order."

"It is true, I do hold intelligence and talent in very high regard, but I do not have a problem with defection." Voldemort looks at the young woman with slight disdain, "The Inner Circle used to be fifty of the most powerful and brightest witches and wizards within all of wizarding England, but alas, it is now a mere shell of its former self. Fifteen members only. Sure, during the First Wizarding War and the recent bouts with the Order has pruned a few, how shall I put this, weaker branches from my elite group, desertion has caused majority of it."

The dark wizard notices a slight falter in the younger witch's façade, "Not that I am considering your deviation from the Order of the Phoenix anything remotely similar to the departure of some of my supposed most trusted allies, I just want to know everything that caused your departure for me to consider you as a possible candidate for a new recruit into my own Order."

"Well, My Lord," Hermione starts, "I was never what you would consider part of the Order of the Phoenix in the first place. Harry often thought since he was dragged into situations for the good of the world, we, as his friends, should be brought into the mess too. I would often protest and tell him that whatever is happening does not concern us and that we should leave things well enough alone. That Dumbledore should never allow children to do the work of adults with more experience, but he would never listen. I often tried to keep away from them, but with poor results. He and Ron constantly sought me out of a crowd to tell me the next stupid quest that the Headmaster had conjured up. Every single day, it was the same thing. Hell, I even begged Professor Snape to petition Dumbledore to allow me to change Houses. I would rather have been a muggle-born within Slytherin and constantly harassed about my blood status than to remain anywhere near those two."

"You see My Lord..." Bellatrix says with a smile, "I knew she would be a perfect addition to our group. I see no signs of desertion in her story, but then again," the raven-haired witch bows her head slightly, "You, My Lord, have much better judgement than myself."

"I think I may have to agree with you Bellatrix, but I think one last test is in order," Voldemort nods his head to the older witch and she rolls up the sleeve of her black corseted dress. She glances briefly at the brunette beside her and presses down on the dark mark on the inside of her arm.

Moments later, the same hooded figures that carried Ron off to the dungeons walk silently through the door, "Crabbe. Goyle." The Dark-Lord calls them by name and they look expectantly towards their leader, "Bring the ginger here to the study, I have found the perfect use for him." With a quick nod of their heads the two wizards stalk back the way they came and the door closes softly behind them.

Hermione looks at Bellatrix quizzically as she tries to figure out what exactly the dark wizard had in mind. No matter how her questioning gaze fell upon the dark witch, she could not discern any glimpse into His plan. The brunette even tried Legillimency, but Bellatrix's walls were rock solid and even though Hermione's skills were good, she could never ever crack the older woman's Occulmency shields. Finally tired of her passive attempts at finding out information, the younger woman ventures to ask what she desired to know.

"Sir, if I may ask a question: What is your use for the Weasley boy?" Hermione holds her breath after being so forward with Voldemort.

"Ah, I was wondering when you would stop trying to get past Bellatrix's shields and ask the question out right!" A smile falls upon his thin lips, "I normally feel questions like the one you have just asked warrants a Cruiciatus Curse, but you are not part of the Death-Eaters yet, so I will let this pass. I want to test how far you will go to achieve what you so desire. This Weasley boy... you have known him for quite sometime, am I right?"

"Yes My Lord. I have known him for nearly eight years."

"So, even though you have had your problems with him in the past, one could say you have been somewhat friends with him."

"Yes My Lord, but barely friends."

"Then if that is the case, a person in my position should be somewhat alarmed at the fact that you show up here and offer a part of the Golden Trio, a group that most people consider you the brains of, as a sacrifice to your supposed enemies. I want to see... Ah..." Voldemort pauses when the door to the study opens and Crabbe and Goyle enter the room with a battered, still chained Ron between them, "I see that our test can begin before I am finished properly explaining it to you! Now Granger as I was saying, you bring a member of the Golden Trio into these halls of my inner sanctum as an offering, a show of good-will toward your enemies in hopes that we will allow you to join us, is this correct."

"Yes My Lord."

"Then prove your loyalty to me," Voldemort casts a wordless spell that causes the chains around Ron to unravel from his body until only his wrists and ankles were held within their hold. The chains then bolt themselves to the hardwood floors of the study and shorten so the red-haired wizard could only stand in the spot that Crabbe and Goyle left him. The Dark-Lord stands up from the high-back leather chair and crosses the few metres of space between Him and the younger witch. Walking behind Hermione, Voldemort places His pale long hands on her shoulders and whispers in her ear, "Torture him, then kill him. Afterwards we shall send his body piece by tiny piece back to that horrid house so adequately called 'The Burrow' so the rest of the Weasel family will know that they were wrong in choosing Dumbledore and the Order."

Ron's face pales upon hearing the words that the Dark-Lord had spoken, the whisper, it seems was never a whisper at all, "H-hermione... Y-you wouldn't! I-i have n-n-never done a-anything t-to h-h-harm you!"

Suddenly, Bellatrix lets out a high-pitched laugh causing the young wizard to shudder uncontrollably, "I-i have n-n-never done a-anything t-to h-h-harm you," she mimics the young wizard and laughs again, "You are pathetic! I have never heard anyone sound as horribly pitiful as you have just shown us! Not even my deceased ex-husband sounded as pathetic as you just did when I killed him!"

Hermione, poised to cast her first hex, stops suddenly at the words that fell from Bellatrix's lips, "You killed your husband?"

Bellatrix smirks, "But of course my dear, it would just not do for him to stay alive. It was a marriage of convenience for both of us, but now it was just no longer convenient for me, especially since you are here."

"Ahem," Voldemort clears his throat, "Ladies, I suggest you keep with formalities, at least right now anyway, and besides... shouldn't I hear the boy screaming? If he doesn't start screaming within the next thirty seconds, someone else will start screaming!"

Hermione quickly casts a Cruiciatus curse causing the red-haired young man to shudder in pain, "This is for all those times that you lot bothered me when I told you to leave me alone!"

Her grip tightens on her wand as her anger and the spell grow more volatile making Ron scream out in pain.

"That's more like it!" The Dark-Lord shouts over the noise caused by the tortured young man, an evil smile sits upon his snake-like face.

Hours go by as the late afternoon, turns to night, which in turn, turns back to day. In the early morning light, as the sun rises slowly over Malfoy Manor, the hoarse screams of Ronald Weasley still echo throughout the corridors. Voldemort covers His mouth to stifle a yawn and stands from His seat by the fireplace. Sometime during the night, He decided He would be more comfortable and have a better view of the torture session sitting by the fireplace than behind the large mahogany desk. Bellatrix had fallen asleep on the leather sofa, closest to the bookcases, sometime during the night, tiring herself out taunting Ron with all of the deviant ideas she claimed that she wanted to do with Hermione after he was dead.

"I think you have proven yourself worthy of a position within the Death-Eaters Miss Granger," He says with a smile, "Kill him."

"Avada Kadavra!"


	6. The Burrow

**_Author's Note: First of all, I am sorry for the delay. There were a few times where I had to toss the chapter and start over, but it here now! Secondly, I would like to thank everyone who reviewed, favourited, and followed this story! It does this writer a world of good to see the numbers increase in those three columns! As you all will notice, this chapter will deviate form Hermione's view, but it is integral that this chapter is written as it is and placed where it is within this story. With this chapter, I want to show the reader what occurs after the incident at Malfoy Manor (the last chapter) instead of heard from word of mouth from the characters. Keep in mind that this is a dark story so a little morbidity is to be expected! I think I have rambled enough, so on to chapter 6!_**

* * *

"_**When it rains, it pours."**_

A soft pop echoes in the early morning light in the fields outside of the Burrow. A very bedraggled, bespectacled dark-haired wizard pushes his way, stumbling partly, into the clearing surrounding the house.

He knows that the inhabitants of the dwelling are more than likely sleeping this early in the morning. It is a Saturday, so Arthur Weasley does not have to leave for work like he would if this were a weekday. Harry would like nothing more than to knock frantically on the door and relay the day before yesterday's events to the family inside, but he refrains from doing so because of the pain he knows he would cause. It is a pain that he would rather wait to share with the others, so he settles himself on the stoop, leaning against the front door, and waits.

He must have dozed off at some point because when he awakes, he is staring up into the grinning faces of Fred and George, and feels a large knot forming on the back of his head where he fell inwards onto the hardwood floors of the Burrow.

"Mum..."

"...Dad!"

"Harry's here!" the twin's cry out to their parents who were rounding the corner to see what was going on.

"Merlin's beard!" Arthur Weasley exclaims as he quickly helps the twins pull Harry up off the floor, "We had hoped that you had escaped! We heard of the nasty bit of business that happened at Gringotts, but I told Molly that I knew for certain that you three would make it out allright. Where's Ron and Hermione?"

Harry stares at the older wizard for a few moments, "You don't know what happened?"

The hopeful expectation of the Weasley family drops when they see the worry flicker in the dark-haired wizard's eyes.

Sniffling slightly as she realises that bad news is around the corner, Molly steels herself before speaking, "Out with it Harry," the red-haired with takes a deep breath, "I know it has to be bad, otherwise you would still be on your quest. What happened?"

"You don't know? It hasn't been published in The Prophet?" Harry looks around and sees the whole family, including Ginny, who had walked down the stairs as soon as she had heard her mother call Harry's name, looking at him with anticipation.

"Pius is keeping everything quiet, Harry," Arthur Weasley says, "All we know is what Bill told us, that you three had to do something within Gringotts and then we heard that someone tried to break-in, so You-Know-Who's people within the Ministry were sent to investigate."

"Can we go inside? I think we should all sit down for this," the bespectacled wizard asks as he feels the weight of the pain strike into his heart a little more. _'Of course, this makes perfect sense,' _he thinks to himself, _'keep everyone that isn't a Death-Eater out of the loop and the Order won't be any wiser.'_

The Weasleys all move from in front of the door and allow The-Boy-Who-Lived to walk inside. They all follow Harry into the sitting room. Each step they take, causes a little more of their hope for a happy ending to die inside each one of them.

Molly conjures up a tea pot and some cups and settles down beside her husband on the sofa. She waits impatiently as the young wizard in front of her takes a long sip of tea, "I am sorry for being a bit rude, Harry, but you show up at our house, after you and Ron and Hermione leave when the Death-Eaters attacked Bill and Fleur's wedding. We don't hear a bit of news from any of you for months! We have been worried sick! It wasn't until Bill owled us to tell us that you lot were at Shell Cottage the other week that we were at least put in better spirits. Now you show up here, alone, looking as if you haven't ate or slept since you left their house. So you must tell us now, dear... what is going on?"

"I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley," Harry looks up apologetically, from his tea cup, at the matron. "It feels like it has been ages, though it was only a few days ago, since I have had the comforts of home. When we left Shell Cottage, I did not think things would have happened as they did. I knew the dangers, but I didn't expect what happened to actually ever happen!" He stares sullenly at the cup in his hands, it starts to shake as he remembers every little detail that he has tried vainly to forget.

"Why did you three go to Gringotts in the first place, Harry?" Arthur asks quietly.

"I can not tell you, Mr. Weasley. We had reason to believe that something was hidden in one of the vaults. Something that Dumbledore wanted us to find."

"Bollocks!" Molly retorts. Everyone stares at her in shocked amazement upon hearing the word leave her lips. "You mean to tell me that you lot went into Gringotts and my son is missing and you can't tell us the bloody reason you three went there in the first place?"

"Now Molly," Arthur says calmly, his arm wraps around his wife's shoulders. "I am sure Dumbledore had his reasons, rest him, but you can't blame the lad for keeping his oath."

"I could care less about bloody oaths, Arthur! My boy is missing! He could be hurt! Laying up somewhere and not able to get home to us! I need to know what happened! And where is Hermione, Harry? Is she with Ron? Is she keeping him safe? How did you split up from one another? I need to know everything!" The fury and the hurt in the red-haired witch's eyes was enough to push Harry to tell them the story.

"Okay... I may not be able to tell you why we were there, but I will tell you everything else."

Harry, with a very shaky voice, proceeds to tell the Weasley clan what happened when they apparated to Diagon Alley until Hermione and Ron's departure. The whole family sits in rapt silence as he recounts every last detail. When he finishes his tale, there are tears in his eyes and his hands shake so bad that he drops the cup that he held.

The stoneware cup crashing against the hardwood floor seems to awaken the family in front of him from their silence. Molly lets out a gut-wrenching sob while her husband pulls her into a fierce hug which hides his face from the rest of them so no one can see the silent tears streaming down his face. Ginny stares sullenly at the floor, her face devoid of emotions, but Harry can sense the pain that resides deep within her.

The twins are the first ones to speak, "Blimey..." both are pale and quiet for a few seconds until Fred speaks.

"Why did she do such a thing, Harry?"

Harry starts to reply that he doesn't know when Molly, regaining some composure lashes out, "I don't give a damn why that _bitch _did what she did, but next time I see her, she is mine! We fed her, took her into **OUR **home, and this is the sort of thing that happens? She took my baby away from me! Do you know where they went to?" Molly stands up, walks the short distance over to the young wizard. She grabs him by the shoulders and shakes him, "Where did she take my boy?!"

"Molly, please!" Arthur rushes over to the pair and grabs his wife by the shoulders. Instantly she releases Harry and slumps into her husband's embrace.

"I-i n-need t-to find him, Arthur!" The matron sobs.

"I know dear, I know. And I promise you, we will do everything in our power to find him." The older wizard turns to Fred and George, "Can you two help your mother to her room? I think she needs to lie down for a while."

Nodding their heads, the twins stand up, go to their parents, and gently wrap their arms around their mother's shoulders and lead her quietly to her bedroom upstairs. Arthur watches as the three make their way up the stairs, once they are no longer in his sight, he turns to his only daughter, "Ginny, I need to have a word with Harry... if you could just go on up to your room..." The older wizard watches as his youngest stands up and runs up the stairs. A bedroom door slams violently back into its frame. Sighing aloud, Arthur plops down on the sofa he had been sitting on during the whole conversation. The weight of the world could be seen in his eyes and the gravity of the whole situation is heard within his voice, "Now Harry, do you have any thoughts as to why she would do such a thing?" The red-haired man did not dare speak Hermione's name lest anyone within the house heard him and started up on a rampage again.

"I..." Harry racks his brain, trying to think of something, anything, that he may recall might have happened during their quest that would cause Hermione to go dark, "I can't really think of anything that... wait! She started acting strange after we were captured and taken to Malfoy Manor! Ever since then, she seemed distant and cold, as if she was in another world."

"What happened at the Malfoy's, Harry?" Arthur asks, leaning forward in his seat. The patriarch of the Weasley family never knew the trio had been inside the manor and became suddenly eager to know the details. The older wizard hoped that once Harry told him what happened, they could clear up the mystery of Hermione's strange actions.

"I can only tell you what I know, Mr. Weasley. We were in the forest, hiding while searching for the things that Dumbledore said were needed to destroy V-..." Harry pauses, grimacing at his near slip-up of mentioning the Dark-Lord's name. "You-Know-Who. When I said His name."

"Now Harry, you told us before, that we only add the fear to His name when we do not speak it. I, myself, never speak His name in front of Molly, but since she is upstairs, you should be able to say V-..."  
"Don't!" The younger wizard cries out, cutting the older man off mid-sentence, "He has cast a spell on His name! It is similar to the tracer placed on underage witches and wizards, but instead of a letter from the Ministry, Snatchers will be able to find you. That is how we were taken, I said He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's name out loud and the Snatchers, lead by this guy named Scabior, were able to find us even with all of the charms and spells Hermione had placed on our encampment. We all ran to try and get away, but they used an _Incarcerous _spell on all of us, not before she used a Stinging Jinx on me and hid my glasses though. After we were captured, they apparated us to Malfoy Manor." The wizard looks at his hands for a few seconds and sees that they are still trembling, "I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, but do you have anything stronger to drink besides tea? If I am to continue, I need something to steady my nerves."

"Of course, I'll be right back."

Arthur gets up slowly from the sofa and walks towards the kitchen. He could have just as easily summoned a bottle of Firewhiskey and two glasses, but he wanted to give Harry some alone time. _'The boy's nerves are shot,' _he muses to himself, _'Whatever happened these past couple of weeks must weigh heavily on him.' _

Grabbing the bottle of liquor out of the cabinet, the wizard places it on a tray with two glasses, and walks back into the sitting room. While walking closer to his destination, Arthur hears someone gasp and something fall loudly onto the hardwood floors. Nearly dropping the contents of the tray to the ground, he rushes into the living room to find Harry sitting as he was before, but in a catatonic state. Grasped in his hands is a piece of parchment.

Arthur sets the tray down onto the coffee table, "Harry! Harry, are you okay?" He queries as he shakes the stunned wizard.

Silence.

"Shit," the ginger-haired man murmurs aloud. He glances around to see what had fallen to the floor and notices a small wooden box. He gently picks it off the floor and looks about the sides of the small container trying vainly to notice any markings that could determine who it came from. He sees none, but hears something rolling around inside the box every time he moves it.

As Arthur reaches for the clasp to see what is inside, Harry snaps out of his catatonic state and shouts, "DON'T!"

"Harry?" The older wizard looks towards the sound of the younger man's voice, "Harry, are you okay? What happened back then? What does the note say? And what is inside this infernal box that you do not want me to open?"

"Here, read the note, but do not open the box," Harry hands the note over to the older wizard with a sigh.

Arthur notices that the young wizard seems even more exhausted than he was before he came to them. It makes the Weasley patriarch now see the other man for what he really is, a man who has been used by both sides of the war and is on his last leg. _'No person should have to deal with what Harry has been through,'_ the wizard thinks to himself as he opens the piece of parchment that the young man gave him.

_To Harry and the Weasley family,_

_I am sorry if I have been untoward to any of you these past few days, I feel as though_

_I have not been myself. Though you may not forgive me, I hope that this letter helps_

_you find solace from my past grievances. I do not know what I was thinking with my actions_

_at Gringotts, maybe I will never know. Be that as it may, I have sent you all a gift. A gift that_

_may mend the bridges that have once been burned and a key to give you your Ronald back._

_I am sorry,_

_Hermione _

Upon reading the letter, Arthur feels his heart beating faster and feels a few tears fall from his eyes. "Harry... I do not understand, why would you hide this letter from me? And why the bloody hell will you not let me open the box?" The wizard feels rage building inside him for the Boy-Who-Lived. "Hermione is giving me my boy back! She must have had a change of heart and the only way I can have him back is opening that bloody box! It is the key for his return, yet you deny me! Leave! Leave from here Harry and never return!" His hands tremble with the hate he has for the young wizard sitting beside him. "I said go, Harry!"

The young man hurries off the sofa, stumbling as he runs into the coffee-table in front of him. A sharp pain pounds stubbornly in his shoulder as he smashes it into the door-frame of the front door as bright sunlight glares down at him, blinding him momentarily while his eyes grow accustomed to daylight. _'Fine, if he doesn't want to heed my warnings, let them wallow in their pain and suffering once they open the box!' _With that thought, Harry recalls the only image he can think of and dissapparates.

Inside the Burrow, Arthur tries to calm himself and finds it very hard to. Normally calm, cool, and collected, the man always had a way to calm even the most ill-tempered person, but now it is he who is furious and try as he might, he can not calm down. "Who the hell does he think he is?" Arthur mutters to himself as he reaches for the small wooden box on the table, "Does he think that just because he is the 'Chosen One', that he can deny anyone anything?" Flicking the clasp of the box open with his thumb, the wizard opens the box and peers inside. A strangled cry of pain and fear escapes his throat as he drops the box, its content, a pair of brown-coloured eyes roll across the floor. Inside, scrawled in blood, were the words: I see you.

Outside, the clouds darken and the distant rumble of thunder grows steady as Arthur sobs loudly, causing the rest of the Weasley family to run downstairs.

"Dad, what is it?" Fred asks as he moves closer to his father and reaches for the letter and the box that had been tossed carelessly on the floor.

"Fred, no!" Arthur screams as he grabs his son by the shoulders, "Don't look at what is inside!"

A bolt of lightning flashes across the sky, striking a nearby tree and seemingly also opening up the heavens, allowing a torrent of rain to crash onto the earth. The noise startles the family inside and Ginny and George rush to the window.

"Oh god no!" Ginny cries out as she falls to the floor weeping.

George turns around to face his parents and brother. His face pale and gaunt, "They killed him, didn't they Dad? She killed Ron!"

Arthur nods his head slowly, the strength fading out of him as he stares out at the tempest of blood growing steadily stronger in the fields surrounding their home. Upon seeing the confirmation from her husband, Molly lets out a haunting howl of grief and drops to the hardwood floor in a swoon.

"This is only the beginning..." Arthur finally says to no one in particular, "This is only the beginning of the end."


End file.
